Chapter 8: More Than Company Business

They convened the next day at a little café not far from Emma's apartment. Emma's pulse beat with expectation and anxiety as she strolled into the café; the air was crisp with the first signals of fall.

Lucas was seated at a table near the window when she arrived. She already knew him. Looking up as she entered, he wore a kind grin.

He murmured gently, "Emma," then stood to meet her.

"Hi," she said, sitting down across from him with almost audible voice.

Their conflict was evident and none of them talked for a minute. Still, it was not the tense type that made others uncomfortable. It was the kind that buzzed with possibilities, weighted with everything that had not been uttered.

After a minute, Lucas murmured, "I'm glad you came," his eyes kind as they locked with hers.

Emma said, her heart hammering in her chest, "Me too."

About work, about life, about everything but the emotions that had been boiling between them for weeks, they spoke for some time. Still, their relationship was clear even as they danced around the topic.

The sun was sinking, bathing the city in a warm, golden light as they at last left the café. For a few blocks, they strolled silently, the strain between them rising with every step.

Lucas halted then, turning to face her as they neared the corner.

"Emma," he whispered gently, eyes full of something profound and unsaid. "I—."

Emma bridged the space between them before he could finish, her lips kissing his with all the feelings she had been fighting to control.

She didn't withdraw this time.

Emma stood there, her lips glued to Lucas's, every inch of her body alive with pleasure. Her heart raed. Though soft and tender, the kiss carried the force of everything they had not let themselves experience. Emma also lacked retraction this time. She refused let the anxiety stop her. She let herself drop into the moment, into Lucas.

Emma forgot everything—her history, her agony, her fears—his hands moved to her waist, drawing her closer for a short, whirling second. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips slid against hers, the way the world seemed to vanish when they were together—all that really mattered.

But reality started to slink back in as the kiss intensified. Emma's heart hammered from the kiss as much as from the accompanying anxiety. Was she ready for this?

She drew back slowly, grudgingly, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she glanced up at Lucas, his black eyes reflecting the same uncertainty and need she felt.

"I—". Emma began, but her throat seized the words. She had no idea what to say or how to articulate the flurry of feelings that had been whirling within her from the minute they crossed paths.

Lucas back off, his hand still softly resting on her waist. His voice soft and kind, he searched her eyes. "Are you fine?"

Emma nodded, uncertain if it was accurate. Her heart was still beating, the kiss still causing mental whirl-around. She was sure, however, that she yearned more. More of him and more of the connection they had been developing. And it terrified her more than anything else.

She said, "I'm sorry," in almost discernible voice. "I didn't meant for that to happen."

Lucas shook his head slightly and his face softened. "Don't come back from it. From the day I met you, I have desired this.

Emma felt her heart skip a pulse as his words rocked her. He too had desired this. The information made her both thrilled and afraid; the worry of injury resurfaced in the back of her thoughts.

"I just—," Emma stammered, looking for the correct words. "I want not to hurry into anything."

Lucas nodded, his hand sliding from her waist as he moved back to give her room. We will not hurry. We will go at the speed you find comfortable.

Emma's heart hurt in response to his genuineness in voice and his patient gaze. Lucas was not expecting anything from her or pressuring her. He was giving her time and space—everything she had not known she needed.

She smiled gently, relief pouring through her. Thanks.

Their unsaid emotions hung weighty in the air as they stood there in the last of the city's light. Emma understood that whatever it was between them, she couldn't ignore; even if she wasn't ready to let herself go totally.

The days that followed were a haze of pilfers of snatched events and hesitant onward motions. Emma and Lucas met for coffee, had quiet chats, and spent more time together than they had before—each meeting tinged with the same underlying tension that had always been there. It felt different now, however. Now they understood one another, and they acknowledged the emotions seething just under the surface.

Emma found herself thinking about Lucas nonstop, her pulse racing with every new message her phone buzzed with. Though they hadn't kissed since that evening, their relationship appeared to become closer with every day. She couldn't resist the draw she felt toward him even if she was still terrified and reluctant to let herself fall totally.

Emma was working on the last details of the project in her studio one evening when her phone buzzed with a message from Lucas.

Lucas: Tonight is dinner. No pressure; only we are under influence.

Emma reading the message skipped a beat in her heart. Dinner is scheduled. It was basic and innocent even. She understood, however, that spending more time with him and allowing herself to get near him carried risk. She had urged herself not to allow anybody in and not let herself fall for someone once again. Lucas, however, was unique. She could not deny the way he made her feel, no matter how hard she tried to resist it.

A minute later she wrote her response.

Emma: Dinner is excellent. There?

His answer came almost right away.

Lucas: Where I am. At 7 PM.

Emma's nerves were already ragged when she got to Lucas's apartment that evening. It had been difficult for her to concentrate on her job, to drive Lucas's ideas from her head, all day. She had become increasingly nervous the closer the evening drew.

She was hit with the pleasant, tempting aroma of something great cooking in the kitchen as she left the elevator into Lucas's apartment. The room was softly golden, and Lucas was already standing at the stove, his sleeves pulled up and a grin on his face.

"You cook?," asks Emma inquired, clearly surprised as she moved forward into the room.

Lucas laughed, then turned to meet her. I do indeed. Periodically.

Feeling some of her anxiety start to evaporate, she grinned. She felt more at ease seeing Lucas in this environment—so laid back, so different from the driven, cool businessman she had initially met. It reminded her that, like her, he was human.

Emma felt comfortable as they sat down to dine; the conversation was natural and for the first time in a long time. Lucas didn't push her to discuss anything she wasn't ready for or about her background. Rather, they laughed, told tales, and enjoyed one other's presence in a manner that seemed natural, simple.

Still, there was an underlying thread of something more even as the evening drew on and the strain between them relaxed. Emma felt the pull—the indisputable link that had been strengthening with every day—every time Lucas's hand touched hers and every time their gaze crossed the table.

Lucas walked her to the sofa after supper, and they sat together under the city lights flickering far away. Though it was not unpleasant, the quiet between them carried weight from unsaid emotions.

Lucas remarked gently, his eyes gentle as they locked with hers, "I've been thinking about you a lot."

Emma's breath seized in her throat and her heart skipped a beat. "I've been considering you too."

Though he grinned, Emma's heart quickened from something deeper in his eyes. "Emma, I understand you are afraid. You have past pain, I know. I am not going anywhere, however. I will not damage you.

Emma's heart hurt because of his sincere words and soft gaze. She wanted to believe him, wanted to hope that this—what they had—might vary from her past experience.

Her voice almost above a whisper, she said, "I'm scared of getting too close." "I refuse to let myself disappear once more."

Lucas stretched forward and softly grabbed her hand in his. His touch sent a wave of consolation through her and was kind and encouraging.

You won't lose yourself, he murmured gently. "Without me." Emma, I would want nothing from you taken. Just to be with you.

Her heart hammered as his words sunk in; the genuineness and patience in his voice made her feel as if, for the first time, she was not scared. She had no need to guard against him. He was presenting her something genuine, something she had not even considered she desired.

And gradually the anxiety that had been dragging her back started to let go.

She said, "I want to try," her voice quivering with feeling. But I don't know how.

Lucas grinned, his eyes full of a tenderness that hurt her heart. "We'll figure it out together."

They sat there silently for a minute, their words hanging in the air weighing them. Emma's heart accelerated, but it was not because of terror. It came from the awareness that she yearned for this—wanted him—in a manner she had not let herself let in a long time.

She also lacked fear in letting herself experience it for the first time.